Office of Special Projects
by Tragediane
Summary: What if Office of Special Projects has a dual meaning? It does for Sam and G as well as Eric and Nell and someone else too.  An April Fools' Day short story.
1. Office of Special Projects, I

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Title: Office of Special Projects**

**Rating: T**

**Story Premise: **What if Office of Special Projects has a dual meaning? It does for Sam and G as well as Eric and Nell.

**Category: **Humor/Angst Short Story

**WARNINGS: None**

**DISCLAIMER: **NCIS: Los Angeles and its characters are owned by CBS and the producers of it. I do not own anything, but if I did I would torture G Callen more and make him cry and suffer and have plenty of angst. I am grateful to CBS and the producers of NCIS: LA for their contribution to the world of entertainment.

_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. This is a work intended for entertainment __**outside the official storyline**__ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA._ I gain no profit from the creation and publication of this story. I love to play in the sandbox with the characters and their lives. I especially love to torture G Callen. It is fun!

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed.<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Office of Special Projects<strong>

Late on a Saturday night, Sam and G set up the equipment in the OPS Center.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" G asked for the fifth time that night.

Sam sighed. "You've got no sense humor?"

"I didn't say that." G got defensive again.

"Then what's the problem?"

G helped Sam hardwire in the new equipment. "Nothing."

"You think Hetty will get angry."

"N0."

"Then what?"

G sighed this time. "Payback is a bitch."

"Yeah, so?"

"If he finds out we did this, there will be payback."

Sam stopped hardwiring in the equipment and glanced over at his partner.

"What?" G stared back at him.

"And you can't handle payback from him?" He chuckled.

"Okay, I know it makes me sound as if I'm a wuss."

"A wuss?" Sam snickered. "Try yellow-bellied."

G dropped his tools and slumped into one of the chairs where Eric and Nell usually sat. "You're calling me a coward?"

"Well, if you can't handle his wrath you've got serious problems."

"He could reprogram my computer or…"

"Or what?"

"Something worse."

"He's not usually the plotting type."

"He's got help now with her on board."

"True."

He sighed. "Last time we pulled a stunt on him, she wasn't there to help him." G remembered back to the time they pulled a practical joke on this team member. Sam and he laughed hard and their sides ached for days afterward. "He could reprogram the Mercedes's onboard computer."

"Now you're beginning to make him sound as if he's James Bond working as a tech," Sam said, sniggering.

"You may think this is funny."

"It is." He sat in the other chair. "You are the top undercover agent and you are worried about a little payback from him." Sam turned the chair back to his project.

G faced the unit again and worked with his partner to finish their special project. Who would have thought the Office of Special Projects could have a dual meaning. "Who taught you how to do this stuff?"

"Yeah, I know and now we're turning the tables on him."

"Well, one thing for sure, I can't wait to see the videos."

"Now, you are talking, G, see there's something to look forward to with our special project."

Sam and G finished their hardwire and relaxed in the two chairs.

"What if he already planned _his_ special project and we don't know about it?" G said.

"Such as?"

"My mind can think of bad scenarios."

"Well, tell your mind not to worry."

"What?" G glanced at him sideways.

"You can be a worrisome guy."

G gave his partner a soft punch in the biceps. "Thanks for reminding me."

"We'd better get out of here before the cleaning crew arrives."

Sam and G gathered their tools and equipment and stashed them in their cases. They checked the OPS Center one last time and left.

* * *

><p><strong>#NCIS:LA #NCIS:LA #NCIS:LA<strong>

* * *

><p>The team was called to a special meeting in the OPS Center at noon on Monday. Hetty stood by the HD video screen waiting for her team to assemble.<p>

Sam and G took up their positions, leaning against the light table in the room's center. Both had smirks on their faces, which they kept hidden behind pretending to scratch their day old beards and mustaches.

Kensi and Deeks entered the OPS Center last and took up their positions behind the light table.

Eric and Nell were no shows.

"We have a problem," Hetty said, beginning her monologue, "someone has interfered with the video projection devices in OPS, causing them to broadcast Mr. Beale's private residence onto the video screens. He arrived here early yesterday morning to finish a project for me and discovered that he was not able to view anything on the HD video screen except himself taking a shower that morning. And today, everything which occurred in his apartment over the course of Sunday ended up on the video screen. Would either of you gentlemen know who is responsible for these shenanigans?"

Sam and G attempted to keep straight faces.

"No," G said, keeping his words few to avoid laughing out loud.

"Mr. Hanna?"

"No," he said, keeping it short too.

"Apparently, whomever is responsible hardwired the equipment into the OPS Center's video system and it is remotely controlled." Hetty sighed and interlocked her hands at the small of her back. "Whomever has stooped into this skylarking triviality needs to come forward and make their apologies to Mr. Beale. That will be all." She flipped on her heels and exited the OPS Center.

As soon as the doors closed, Sam and G bent over laughing, close to hysterical.

Kensi and Deeks stared at them.

"I never thought I'd see the day that you two played a practical joke on Eric," Deeks said.

"We've done it every year on April Fool's Day." Sam straightened and turned around to face Kensi and Deeks.

"You'd think Hetty would've known by now that it was coming again," G said, resting his aching body on the light table. His stomach and sides ached from the roaring laughter he and his partner experienced on Sunday and earlier this morning. They watched from the comfort of G's house and saw Eric's jaw drop upon seeing himself on the video screen stark ass naked.

"I think she knew it was you two," Kensi said. "If you'll notice she didn't address her words to Deeks and me."

"That's true," Sam sighed, "and she knows we'll do it again."

"No ops?" G asked.

"I think the ops is you two making your apologies and removing the equipment."

Sam and G sighed one after another.

"Apology first," G said. "I suppose Eric is at home."

"Yeah, recovering from our practical joke," Sam said.

They strode toward the doors and exited the OPS Center. In the bullpen, they gathered their personal items and headed toward Sam's car.

"Well, did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yeah, it was worth every moment," G said, "and no payback, that's what I'm enjoying."

"Me too."

They climbed into the Challenger and put on their seat belts.

Sam started the engine, revved it once, and backed down the driveway.

"What are we planning to do next year?" G said.

"I'll think of something, I always do." After he turned onto the main thoroughfare, Sam adjusted the radio to his favorite jazz station. Show tunes blasted through the speakers, jarring his nerves. "Bastard! I hate show tunes. I'm gonna kill him." He changed the channel to his other favorite jazz station. Nothing but pure static. "He's a dead man. No apology." Sam turned the Challenger back toward headquarters. "Let's take your car."

"You never suggest that."

"I am now and don't push it, man." He parked the Challenger and they both strode toward G's Mercedes near the front of the building.

Both men turned the corner and their jaws dropped. The Mercedes now sported a new look, neon pink with neon lime green polkadots.

"He's screwed." G climbed into the driver's side. Before he closed the door he switched the key to accessory and tuned in his favorite radio station. The jarring sound of improvisational jazz blared through the speakers. No sound control. "He's royally screwed. What did I tell you, Sam? Payback _is_ a bitch."

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><p><strong>I hoped you enjoyed my April Fools' Day short story.<strong>


	2. Office of Special Projects, II

**I originally wrote Office of Special Projects as a stand alone short story. However, when a reviewer commented they wanted to see Callen and Sam's faces I thought what the heck and wrote this. **

**And here is the other point of view...**

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTES:<strong>

**Title: Office of Special Projects, II**

**Rating: T**

**Story Premise: **What if Office of Special Projects has a dual meaning? It does for Sam and G as well as Eric and Nell.

**Category: **Humor/Angst Short Story

**WARNINGS: None**

**DISCLAIMER: **NCIS: Los Angeles and its characters are owned by CBS and the producers of it. I do not own anything, but if I did I would torture G Callen more and make him cry and suffer and have plenty of angst. I am grateful to CBS and the producers of NCIS: LA for their contribution to the world of entertainment.

_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. This is a work intended for entertainment __**outside the official storyline**__ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA._ I gain no profit from the creation and publication of this story. I love to play in the sandbox with the characters and their lives. I especially love to torture G Callen. It is fun!

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed.<strong>

* * *

><p>Nell giggled and was close to rolling on the ground and laughing. "Sorry I didn't assist you last year," she said, "this is gonna be fun watching them."<p>

Eric focused on his special project and tried to keep from laughing. It was difficult, considering he was gonna see the results of his special project this time. He set up the remote controlled onboard video cameras to record the deeds of his dirty work. This was gonna be fun. "Close to finishing your half of the project?"

"Yes." Nell finished the last touches on the altered system. "I never thought payback could be this fun."

"Yep, I love this part of the special project."

"And the colors on the other half of our special project are smashing."

"Head turning."

"More like disgusting, at least for a guy." For this delicate part of the computer system, Nell needed to squelch her laugh. "Do you know what they planned?"

"Never know and that's the fun part about it." Eric knew though while he and Nell were rigging the first part of their special project, the subjects of their dirty work improvised their own special project. While he enjoyed his part in the game, he loathed what they had planned to throw at him. They aimed to embarrass him.

"Only this time, you've got my help."

"Yep, it ups the ante for next time."

"How so?"

"Payback is a bitch."

"Ah, yes," Nell said, finishing the installation and closing the covering on their special project. "And I am done." She returned her tools to the backpack and hoisted it onto her shoulders.

"Any requests for snacks while we watch our surveillance videos?" Eric asked. He packed his tools into a rolling tote.

"Just the usual."

For Eric, the best part of this special project was a night with Nell watching videos together. He wished there was a way to spend more time with her. Eric stopped by the convenience store on the way to his apartment. "Last call for special requests."

"Cheetos, the crunchy ones."

"All right." The request was a first for her yet a favorite for him. Maybe there was hope for them after all.

* * *

><p><strong>#NCIS:LA #NCIS:LA #NCIS:LA<strong>

* * *

><p>Eric and Nell removed their black coveralls and settled down on Eric's cyan blue couch in the den, their snacks in bowls on the matching coffee table.<p>

Nell pulled the remote from her backpack and handed it over to her partner in crime. "Next time, I get to decide what we do."

"That's a deal," he said, "but you need to follow some simple rules."

"I asked if you had rules and you said no."

"Well… I do follow two simple rules, do not commit technological malpractice."

"I can do that," she said, "anything else."

"Have fun."

"There's the easy part."

Eric turned on the television. "Can't wait to see their faces."

"Me neither."

They relaxed against the cushions and munched on gourmet chocolate chip cookies.

Eric eyed the time, shortly after noon on Monday. Stage one coming up. He pushed the button on the remote surveillance cameras and waited for the subjects of their dirty work.

"Here they come," Nell said, taking a sip of her cappuccino with extra whipped cream.

They watched Sam and Callen climb into the Challenger.

"Can't wait," Eric said, getting impatient to see and hear their handiwork play out.

Nell started to take another sip of her cappuccino but held off for a few seconds as she intently watched the scene play out before them. She giggled.

Eric chuckled.

The kind of music Sam hated blasted through the speakers of the Challenger. And the best part, there was no controls on the sound.

Nell placed her coffee on the table before she spilled any more on her lap. Her giggles had turned into roaring laughter as she listened to Sam get pissed about the music. The look on his face was priceless. If looks could kill… Now she had to come up with next year's April Fools' Day prank and it needed to surpass this one. Sam was gonna be on the warpath next year.

Eric roared with laughter. He tossed the bag of gourmet chocolate chip cookies aside and turned up the sound.

Neither one of them missed the smirk on Callen's face. The music Eric and Nell chose was the same music their team leader used to force Sam into talking about what was bothering him. And Sam failed to notice that smirk on his partner's face.

Eric and Nell howled with laughter. They both held their sides.

"My sides are killing me from all this laughing," Nell said.

"Yep, me too," he said, "time for part two." Eric readied the cameras in the parking lot surrounding Callen's Mercedes as well as in the vehicle. "Here we go."

They watched Callen and Sam round the corner into the front parking lot.

"Yes, a jaw dropping experience!" Nell roared with laughter. "This is a riot."

Eric doubled over with laughter, watching Callen's face. "Love that look."

"Callen's right?"

"Yep." He grabbed his sides and slid off the couch onto the floor. Eric pushed the coffee table aside. "I never thought I'd see Callen this shocked."

"Look at him, he doesn't even want to close his door."

"The poor man—" Eric rolled to his side, roaring with laughter. "Here it comes. Improvisational jazz."

Nell burst out laughing, watching the infuriated mien on Callen's face. "Oh, he is peeved."

"That's putting it mildly," he said, "but take a look at Sam's face. And I thought Callen had a smirk on his face."

"His is close to a sneer."

"Yep, he's enjoying his partner's suffering more than I thought he would."

"Sam knows Callen hates jazz music."

"I wouldn't be surprised if they improvise a practical joke on each other next year."

"Gives me an idea," Nell said.

"If you're thinking what I'm thinking, next year is gonna be a blast," Eric said. "Take sides and help each of them to play a prank on the other."

"Yes, exactly what I'm thinking." Nell settled on the carpet next to Eric. "Thanks for the great time."

"To next year." He held up his cappuccino and they toasted and took bites of their gourmet cookies.

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><p><strong>The End... April Fools!<strong>

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading part two of my April Fools' Day story.<strong>


	3. Office of Special Projects, III

**No story about the shenanigans at NCIS Los Angeles's Headquarters would be complete without one other person's point of view.**

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTES:<strong>

**Title: Office of Special Projects, III**

**Rating: T**

**Story Premise: **What if Office of Special Projects has a dual meaning? It does for Sam and G as well as Eric and Nell and someone else.

**Category: **Humor/Angst Short Story

**WARNINGS: None**

**DISCLAIMER: **NCIS: Los Angeles and its characters are owned by CBS and the producers of it. I do not own anything, but if I did I would torture G Callen more and make him cry and suffer and have plenty of angst. I am grateful to CBS and the producers of NCIS: LA for their contribution to the world of entertainment.

_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. This is a work intended for entertainment __**outside the official storyline**__ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA._ I gain no profit from the creation and publication of this story. I love to play in the sandbox with the characters and their lives. I especially love to torture G Callen. It is fun!

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed.<strong>

* * *

><p>It was her first time to play her hand in all this fandango. She carefully compiled two stacks of folders, one for each of her lead agents. The bottom folders contained some rather odd paperwork for her agents to complete. However, if they followed her instructions in the first folder their day would go smoother and faster. But she knew one fact, exhaustion from their late night escapade would play a prominent role in how they attacked their piles.<p>

Late evening on April Fools' Day, Hetty pushed a cart into the bullpen and unloaded the mountainous piles onto their respective desks. A rare mischievous smile spread across her face.

She gathered her purse and scarf and headed toward the exit doors. When Hetty opened her car door balloons poured out of her car while alarms sounded. _Damn, they got me._ She had not expected her top agents to pull anything on her. They never did. She wondered if it was someone else. Hetty pushed the remaining balloons out of her front seat and sat down. After laying her purse on the floor and tying her scarf around her neck, she started the engine on her sports car and backed down the long driveway. Once on the thoroughfare, Hetty tuned in her favorite station. Jarring rap music blasted through the speakers. _Damn, not again. Only two people I know could reprogram my radio. Only one person would choose that music._ She turned it off and scowled. On her short ride home, someone tried to cut her off. Hetty honked the horn. A loud blast of an air horn pierced the air. _Heads are gonna roll. _

After parking in her driveway, Hetty noticed something odd about the fountain in her yard. The light was on and she never left the light on during the daytime. She grabbed her purse and edged closer, her weapon drawn. Several feet from the fountain, Hetty's jaw dropped. Green bubbling water cascaded over the sides of her prized fountain. _I cannot believe this buffoonery. _"Callen!" She knew all too well who had pranked her fountain.

Her agents planned these capers beyond her wildest expectations. Next year, it was time to up the ante and hire professional help with her end of the shenanigans. Obviously, all of her elite team played a part in this monkey business.

She turned off her alarm system before inserting the key into the lock on her door. The moment Hetty opened the door her alarm system sounded with blaring horns, barking dogs, and air sirens. _I am made again. There is always next year._ Another mischievous grin spread across her face. She turned off the alarm system and closed her door. Hetty wondered what other devious deeds awaited her in the house. She laid her purse and gun in a basket by the entrance to the kitchen. _Time for a cup of tea to relax and read the paper. _Hetty searched her entire kitchen for her tea. No tea. "Callen!"

She trudged down the short hallway to her living room and flipped on the light. "What in the world?" The whole living room from wall to wall was filled with bag after bag of tea from every corner of the earth. The tea blocked the entranceway. "Callen!" _Damn._ _I did tell him I was low on tea. He always makes good on his promise to keep me well-stocked with tea. But this?_

Hetty looked forward to early Monday morning when her two lead agents saw their desks. She snickered while imagining the shocked looks on their faces. While the vantage point from her desk provided Hetty with a great view of both her agents, she enlisted Eric's help to install two video cameras, one at each desk. They fed back to her laptop computer at her desk.

* * *

><p><strong>#NCIS:LA #NCIS:LA #NCIS:LA<strong>

* * *

><p>Early Monday morning, Hetty arrived at NCIS Headquarters and settled into her seat at her desk. She usually hung up her purse before sitting down. However, she wanted to see her agents' faces when they entered the bullpen. Hetty had called them into work an hour before their usual time. It was part of a deal she made with Eric and Nell. They required time to pull off the second part of their April Fools' Day prank.<p>

Hetty waved to her top agents as they entered the building, acting as if everything was fine. This was the other part of playing tricks on each other, act normal even after you got pranked.

G and Sam turned the corner and stared into the bullpen.

Hetty grinned from ear to ear, watching their jaws drop. She covered her mouth with two fingers, pretending to rub her lips.

"Hetty, you've got to be kidding," G said, facing the direction of her desk.

"Nope, as I recall you're both behind in your paperwork."

"You're joking right?" Sam said, pleading with his supervisor and hoping it was part of the April Fools' Day hijinks.

"Nope, I'm not the joking type when it comes to paperwork." She grinned again, keeping her mouth covered. "You two better get to it. That's at least an all day project."

G and Sam sat at their respective desks and stared at their mountainous piles.

"And gentlemen, please follow the instructions listed in your first folder."

Both men tilted their heads sideways and stared across the bullpen in her direction.

G grabbed the top folder off the pile and placed it on his desk. He opened it and read the instructions.

Hetty watched the quizzical look on her agent's face.

"You've got to be kidding," G said, glancing over his shoulder at his supervisor.

She raised her eyes from the computer screen for a moment. "Nope." Hetty refocused her attention on her video feeds.

G stood and assumed the position for pushups.

Hetty attempted to contain her laughter. She removed her scarf and nonchalantly covered her mouth.

Sam stared across the bullpen at Hetty. "This is ludicrous." He stood too and assumed the position for pushups.

Hetty watched her two lead agents fall for the oldest trick in the book. No longer able to stay seated, she crossed the room and stood outside the bullpen, watching her agents perform fifty pushups each. Hetty cleared her throat. "Gentlemen, did you follow the instructions?"

G stopped and stared at her. "Of course."

"How much did you two have to drink last night?" She asked.

"Some," Sam said.

"How much sleep did you get?"

"None," G said.

"Figures." Hetty left the bullpen and settled down in her chair to watch her lead agents.

G and Sam eyed one another. They both stopped their pushups not finishing the allotted amount specified on the paper. G and Sam both read the instructions again.

"I think we're missing something, but I don't know what," G said.

Hetty watched and listened to their back and forth discussion.

"Yeah, missing sleep." Sam wiped his eyes again. "I could use about a day's sleep to recover from our antics."

"Me too." G stared at the instructions. It had to be plain as day.

Sam scanned through his instructions again. "What are we missing?" He sighed. "Next it says we have to run in place for 15 minutes."

"I'm not running in place for any length of time." He glared at his supervisor, sitting all smug at her desk. "She's up to something and I don't know what it is." G reread the paper. "It has to be obvious." He considered the stack of folders ten deep. "Has to be simple." G removed the next folder and opened it. Blank. He leafed through the entire folder. Nothing. He flipped on his heels and stared across the room at his supervisor. G replaced the folder and opened the first one again.

'_INSTRUCTIONS: Read this paper very carefully. Read over and understand this entire paper before doing any of it. You may ask for clarifications.'_

G read the through the paper again. Line after line listed one exercise after another, each of them the least desirable type of exercise anyone would want to do and especially in front of someone else. He reached the bottom line and read it out loud for his partner's benefit.

'_INSTRUCTIONS: Do not follow any of the numbered requests. Instead, pull out the last folder in the stack and finish your paperwork from Friday.'_

"Okay, you got us." G slumped down in his chair, the heat rising to his face.

"That color brightens up your face, G."

"Don't start, she got you too."

"Yep, she had us both going."

"Payback _is_ a bitch!" G said, glancing over his shoulder and staring at Hetty. He pulled the last folder out from under the heap of folders and opened it. A rating system for the shenanigans pulled by Sam and Eric and him lay on top of the folder's papers. Clever and definitely something Hetty devised on her own. She wanted to know for her future reference. G filled out the paper and lifted it up. Blank pages. He breathed out a sigh of relief.

Sam performed the same task and breathed out a huge sigh of relief.

G opened his laptop computer and started to peruse the internet for next year's antics. Before he got too far, Hetty's face, grinning wide, popped up on his computer screen. G startled and jerked backward.

"Payback _is_ a bitch, Mr. Callen!"

* * *

><p><strong>The End.<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Yes, this is really the end, no joke this time.<strong>

**I hoped you enjoyed reading my April Fools' Day short story.**


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